


The Sea of Impossibilities

by thewritersfreedom



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Flashbacks, Nighttime, Ocean, PTSD, Sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6679891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritersfreedom/pseuds/thewritersfreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris can still hear it, but he cannot see it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sea of Impossibilities

The light follows, haunting its prey. Devising its plan, the moonlight gleams on them, watching their every move. Beautiful dark blues color the floor. The ocean sparkles and the spotlight points to one man. The floor was not disturbed with every passing pressured step that he takes.

Continuing his trek on the nightly blue, Chris stays silent as he observes his surroundings. The epitome of barren flat ocean sent shivers down his spine. Without the waves passing by in at least some crashes or collision with his feet, the sea stays as the solid color. The blue transforms into black, voided of nothing. The horrific black spreads as Chris picks up the pace, cautiously staying on blue. Nothing, but the blue spaces. In the midst of his running, his eyes turn upwards into the beautiful sky.

The night sky, covered with the white stars and full moon, could only sit in their standard positions. Every panting breath, his speed decreases again and again. No more long strides. He's stuck now running in place as the black came into a slow crawl towards him. 

Nothing seems right. 

His heart races with memories exploding into his head. One after another, he hears murmured words and occasional shrieks, left and right. Chris's ears ring with alarming noises of blaring repetitiveness. His vision blurs and his head aches for release from the chains that bind and cage the destroying mind.

A familiar voice calls for his name.

Echoing and moaning for help.

They want to be saved.

All they want was help.

Alas, the multiple rapid fun fires silence them all. The echoes fell sinking into the depths. They all drown in the darkened soup.

With his hands clenching his chest, he steps back to run back the other way. He fears every tick-tocking second that his weak body must suffer through. The thoughts and questions that race in the skies, faster than the speeding comet hit his world right smack into the sea. Every gigantic splash rolls the ebony carpet with Chris stuck on his little blue island. 

Oh how he wants to scream into the world, yell at the seas, and destroy this grotesque world once and for all.

Everything was a mess. 

At least he did not have to see the people that quiet in the end. 

Tears stream down his face in pure despair. The salty tears did not create many ripples as it hit the waters. They sank as solids into the shadowy arms of the screaming divers. Endless, the tears were endless. He could not stop what was happening. 

He did not hear himself sniffling or wails of disgusting agony. Rather, the sinking tears plop into the deepest ocean. 

It wasn't the ocean nor the sky that were at fault. Not the screaming of the watered down. Not even the darkness surrounding him was no bother. 

It was the silence that broke him. 

**Author's Note:**

> If this sounds similar to Sleep's Purity, it kinda does actually. I only just realized now that I am posting it. This was an earlier story I wrote back in the summer of 2015.
> 
> This particular story doesn't have a set time in the Resident Evil series, but this might be RE5 or RE6. Who knows. I never thought of giving it a time. It's kind of odd that this is not explored even further, the only evidence we have of Chris having a PTSD moment is the beginning of RE6 in which he speaks with Piers the first time. It would just add so much to his character and that's why I wrote it. 
> 
> Originally this was really short, so I edited it as I typed it out, since most of the time I usually physically write then type. So there are a couple of changes here and there, but it did not change the overall tone I gave the piece in the first place. W


End file.
